Saturday, February 2, 2013

The Hound Dog


I’ll never forget that snowy winter morning when I was ten. At seven a.m.,  it was still dark, and frosty outside, my Dad would crack the upstairs hall window and stand there smoking his Kent cigarette staring into the blackness, waiting for the dawn.

His deep, throaty Guten Morgen Cornelia, exhale matched mine as I echoed my answer,
Morning Dad, close that window, its freezing I can see my breath!!  Mom tell him to close the window, we are ALL going to get sick!

KURT, Connie, Angie come look; Mom screeched from the Kitchen; I just saw the hound dog!

I beat them into the kitchen  as Mom continued to wave towards the window, as her eyes grew wider. She was so excited, I thought she would burst.

What, I countered?

The Hound Dog, the HOUND DOG!

Okay Mom, back up. What hound dog? The neighbor’s dog? What dog?
She shook her head emphatically and said
The Hound DOG has no shadow! 
That means Spring is coming early this year.

OHHH!

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